


Mulling Things Over

by water_bby



Category: The Red House Mystery - A. A. Milne
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21893365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/water_bby/pseuds/water_bby
Summary: Tony and Bill receive the unexpected Christmas gift of each other’s company at a house party.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Mulling Things Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tibby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tibby/gifts).



“Oh, there you are, Bill. Here’s our last guest, delayed by the weather.”

Bill Beverley looked up from the frankly boring treatise on golf he had started reading just for something to occupy his mind, prepared to be his usual polite self. Instead, when he saw the figure standing by his host, his face broke out in a broad, pleased smile.

“Well, hello, Tony. I didn’t know you knew Charles, but it’s terrific to see you. Happy Christmas!”

The figure so addressed grinned back. “Well, William, you don’t know everything.”

Charles Forrester looked between his guests and sighed. “Should I be worried that you two know each other?”

“Oh, no, not at all! It’s just that I haven’t heard from this madman for, oh, a couple of months, and it’s always nice to see him. Though, the last time he showed up when I was at a house party, there was that awkward murder situation. But I’m sure we won’t have to worry about any such thing happening here.” Bill stopped, aware that he was probably making his host uncomfortable, and Bill liked Charles, so he didn’t want to discomfit him.

Antony, probably recognizing Bill’s own discomfort, spoke into the increasing silence. “Bill ordered cigarettes from me when I was working at the tobacconist shop.”

“And then I saw him again when he was being a waiter, but I didn’t recognize him, of course, and I’m afraid I wasn’t on my best behavior, so I was quite embarrassed when a friend introduced us, oh, three months later, was it?” Bill turned to Antony for confirmation of the timing and noticed that Charles was sporting a quite avuncular smile.

“Well, Antony, I’ll leave you in Bill’s care for now, shall I? Dinner will be at half seven. We will be dressing, since it’s Christmas Eve. My lovely bride does enjoy her silks and satins, and the young ones seem to enjoy it as well. I’ll see you for drinks at seven, shall I?”

When both of the younger men assented to this plan, Charles waved them towards the sofa Bill had been sitting on and wished them a good afternoon.

“So,” Bill started as he sat back down, putting the treatise on a nearby table to be reshelved later, “Charles knows about your rather colorful employment history.”

“M’older brother married his eldest daughter, and Charles had heard all about me, apparently, from her, so at the wedding breakfast, he made a point to meet me.”

“Well, that was good of him. So do you visit often?”

“Not as much as Charles and Sarah would like, I fear, but I manage once a year or so. And what a gift to find you here. Now, tell me what you have been doing since your last letter.”

Bill laughed. “Oh, but you are the one more likely to have tales to tell! Tell me what you have been up to, instead.”

And so they passed the time catching up on each other’s activities before going up to their rooms to dress for dinner.

After the expectedly marvelous dinner, Sarah Forrester played waltzes on the piano while the men present took turns dancing with the younger ladies. Then they all bundled themselves up to attend the late Christmas Eve service at the church in the village. Bill and Antony didn’t have a chance to really talk to one another again until after they’d returned and retired to their bedrooms with glasses of mulled wine and an announcement from Sarah that they weren’t expected for breakfast until near 10 in the morning.

Bill took advantage of their rooms being next to one another to join Antony for a shared night-cap. Curled up in the winged armchair, Bill asked, “So, Tony, if someone is murdered here, who will it be?” He had taken a distinct dislike to one of the Forresters’ other guests and wondered what Antony thought of him. Though he had noticed that Antony and the disliked gentleman managed to never have to talk to one another. “I’d vote for that Sheringham fellow.”

Antony nodded absently while he took another sip of his wine. “And why would that be, William? He talked pleasantly with nearly everyone here and with the vicar at the church.”

“But not you. He clearly does not like you, and who is he to make such a decision without even having met you?”

“Oh, Bill, he has met me, some eight years ago or so. I was his valet for five months.”

Bill, knowing something of Antony’s habit of being more forthright than polite with his employers, nodded. Sheringham might well have a reason for his dislike. “By the way, what will you do if you decide to give up on the detectiving? I mean, you usually tell your employer exactly what you think of them, but you’re your own employer on this, right? I mean, even when someone does pay you to help them solve their problem, it’s not like you work for them, is it?”

Antony laughed. “Oh, Bill, never change. I suspect I’ll give myself my best analysis of why I no longer want to work for myself. And then, I’ll give myself my best analysis of how I failed to live up to my standards for an employee. It will probably involve the word ‘ass’ said multiple times by both of me.”

This was all said in such a mild tone that Bill was reduced to laughing so hard that he had to set his wine down to avoid spilling what remained of his night-cap. Antony reached over and patted Bill on his back.

“Really, Watson, you mustn’t take on so. It can’t be good for your health.”

This made Bill laugh even more.

“But to answer your first question, I think you were right this afternoon when you told Charles that there was no need to fear a murder here. Now, if we all make it down to breakfast to discover that someone has, say, exchanged all the ornaments from the salon with those of the breakfast room, I will have to start by suspecting Mr. William Beverley.”

“Me! Why would you suspect me!”

“Well, it might be Charles, but I think Sarah might notice if he was gone that long in the middle of the night. Sheringham is just not the sort for that kind of frivolity. And like Charles, the other married men are likely to be caught. I say, Bill, are you still breathing?”

Bill flapped a hand at his friend, still laughing.

“Shall I continue? The ladies might be responsible.”

“No,” Bill said when he caught his breath for a moment. “It’s so good to see you. Happy Christmas, Tony.”

Antony smiled back. “Happy Christmas, Bill.”


End file.
